


Take Me By Storm

by angelowl



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Gods & Goddesses, F/M, Sea goddess Brienne, Storm god Jaime who's a shameless flirt in a loincloth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:28:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26752093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelowl/pseuds/angelowl
Summary: There were three types of gods. Capricious, vengeful, and benevolent. Brienne herself fell firmly into the last camp.
Relationships: Jaime Lannister/Brienne of Tarth
Comments: 36
Kudos: 197





	Take Me By Storm

There were three types of gods. Capricious, vengeful, and benevolent. Brienne herself fell firmly into the last camp.

As goddess of the sea, she considered it her duty to pluck drowning mortals from the roiling deep and deposit them safely on dry land, to steer ships that’d gotten off course back to shore with a steady hand.

Sailors would pray to her for safe voyage and she always honored their faith in her. Not that she ever forsook the faithless either. All life was equally sacred and worthy of preservation in her eyes.

In fact, she strongly disapproved of gods who sought payment in return for their assistance. She knew of several who’d demanded monuments erected in homage to them. It was behavior unbefitting their station, their position as protectors of the realm. They were meant to be brave, just, to defend the innocent. Not capitalize on the suffering of the defenseless.

She’d named her trident Oathkeeper to remind her of the vows she’d spoken when she assumed the mantle of sea goddess.

The storm god was her closest companion, as dictated by their overlapping roles. At first she’d feared a god such as he would be fueled by vengeance, reckless and prone to wanton displays of destruction. But instead Renly exhibited surprising restraint and swiftly proved himself to be polite, thoughtful, and cooperative.

He very rarely disturbed the seas or skies, and on the odd occasion he did, he would give her advance warning so she could prepare to rescue any innocents caught in the path of his squalls.

She’d thought him a kindred spirit, guided by a sense of responsibility for those who dwelt under their dominion.

That is, until the day he drunkenly set off a cyclone and forgot to alert her. Scores of mortals were killed before Brienne even got wind of it.

It’d been the first hot day of the summer so she’d been preoccupied saving the lives of many an inexperienced swimmer lured into the water to escape the stifling heat. She’d been breathing life back into a small child when whispers of danger carried to her on the breeze. She’d erupted at the site of the wreckage only to find no survivors.

Afterward, Renly had apologized profusely, but there had been only the slightest flicker of remorse in his expression.

She’d wept that night for the lives lost. As well as for the loss of who she’d believed Renly to be, accidentally conjuring a mist that left her eyes dry and her heart heavy come morning. (Technically not a breach in protocol. Precipitation may not have fallen within her purview, but mist and fog were up for grabs.)

In the light of day she acknowledged that the infrequency of his storms wasn’t due to any long-held belief regarding the sanctity of human life. No, his dereliction of duty was a result of laziness and boredom, a severe lack of interest that’d cost countless lives.

She spoke with Renly about it and he admitted that his heart wasn’t in it. He appealed to the Three-Eyed Raven and it was decided he would be swapped with another god who was eager for reassignment.

A certain god of wine, merriment, and debauchery.

Renly jumped at the chance to be installed on the mainland at court. He yearned for the conversation, the dancing, the fashion, the revelry, the political intrigue…

Brienne realized she must’ve been very poor company indeed if those were his uppermost concerns.

She enjoyed a week of blessed calm before Jaime blew into town. Quite literally. He barreled into the Stormlands on the heels of a hurricane. Luckily, his storm narrowly avoided all innocents, but it still set her teeth on edge.

When he introduced himself, he raked a hand through his messy blond curls and looked up at her through his lashes. “I’d heard the rumors, of course, but I didn’t know you’d be so _impressive_ , Goddess Brienne,” he purred before lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles.

She blinked twice. She was used to inspiring fear, grudging respect, even gratitude from the mortals she rescued, but never blatant appreciation of her physical attributes. He mapped her broad shoulders and muscular thighs as if he knew she could break him in two and that he would welcome such a fate.

She hastily snatched her hand back. Her left hand. She had very little contact with other gods, but she’d thought it was customary for handshakes and the like to be extended and accepted on the right-hand side. She glanced at his right arm and was surprised to see that it ended at the wrist.

“Ah, yes, the price for the job transfer,” he said, eyeing his stump ruefully. “I was once bequeathed a hand that turned everything it touched to gold. It was more trouble than it was worth. The truth is I’m glad to be rid of it.”

Brienne could imagine. It sounded like less of a blessing than a curse. She would’ve readily chopped hers off herself if bequeathed such a cruel gift. After all, manual dexterity was not required for a god to successfully perform their duties.

She took in the rest of him and gulped. Naturally, his asymmetry only seemed to enhance his majesty. She stumbled over her words as she suggested that a new guise might be called for now that he was a storm god. (She herself wore a dignified robe of deep blue that was as impenetrable as armor.)

He laughed and spread his arms as if inviting scrutiny. “Oh, I think this suits me just fine, don’t you?”

It did suit him. That was the problem. It was difficult to keep a cool head when he was dressed so…scantily. Her gaze kept being drawn downward without her permission.

She wondered why he’d sought a new domain. He looked the very picture of debauchery. From his skimpy loincloth to his wicked smirk to his come-hither eyes that promised all manner of sin.

Ivy wreathed his brow as grapevines encircled his wrists and she found herself envious of both for the opportunity to wrap themselves around such a beguiling creature.

In the weeks that followed he stayed resolutely bare-chested, his golden skin shimmering in a beam of sunlight that seemed keen to embrace him wherever he went. For that reason alone, the sun earned her envy, too.

It didn’t take her long to learn Jaime was the capricious type of god, driven only by selfish whims and a desire for disorder and chaos. He whipped up trouble every other day.

Wild and unpredictable, he lobbed lightning bolts skyward at his leisure, idly flung sheets of rain at the coast, pursed his lips and summoned twisters with a mere puff of his breath.

Somehow his tempestuousness never came close to endangering mortals so she never needed to step in. Which made her question his aims.

If she didn’t know better, she would think he was deliberately pestering her. Or showing off.

As goddess of the sea, Brienne laid claim to every single droplet of saltwater. It was her purpose, her duty, her one true love.

She felt every wave lapping her skin as if the sea were a living, breathing cloak that was draped around her shoulders. It stirred her awake in the morning and rocked her to sleep in the evening.

So when Jaime’s wind toyed with her seas, kicking up whitecaps, it tickled. When he conjured a deluge, the rain felt like a million kisses peppering her body. But all that was nothing compared to his lightning which struck her dead center, shaking her to her very core.

By chance he intercepted her in the aftermath of one particularly spine-tingling thunderstorm. Her flesh was blotchy-red and hot to the touch, her eyes glassy and unfocused, and her limbs were still quaking from aftershocks.

With a sweeping glance, he took it all in, the devastating effect he’d had on her, and he advanced on her with intent. He tried to reach out to her, but when his fingers grazed her arm, she trembled violently, dizzied and dazed by a cascade of residual sparks.

It was too much.

She fled in a burst of motion, diving deep into the welcoming bosom of the sea to evade him.

In spite of herself, she came to crave the scent of ozone that preceded the thrilling theatrics that’d make her pulse race, her breathing falter. Immortality was hers, but this was the first time she’d felt truly alive.

After many, many more days of suffering the most excruciatingly exquisite blend of agony and ecstasy at his pleasure, she’d had enough.

She launched herself into the middle of his next hurricane, riding the howling wind to its source before touching down beside him on the remote, uninhabited island of Tarth.

He lit up at the sight of her and she marched up to him and kissed him square on the mouth. As his hand and stump greedily roamed her body, her blue armor parted like silk beneath his touch. He pulled her to him and then he was on her, in her, all around her. 

She was the eye of his storm and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

When the storm finally dissipated hours later, Brienne was nestled in Jaime’s arms, her cheek resting upon his chest. In slumber his strands of grapevines brazenly claimed her, gently twining around her neck, waist, and thighs.

The mortals awoke to clear blue skies with nary a cloud above.

Not a week later a boat capsized in the Narrow Sea through no fault of the weather and Jaime saved twenty lives before Brienne even arrived on the scene, proving beyond a shadow of a doubt that he was a benevolent god in a capricious god’s loincloth.

After the last mortal was safely ashore, Oathkeeper began to glow within her grasp. Silvery-blue flames danced along her three-pronged spear before shining so brilliantly everything else was blotted out. When the blinding light faded from view, Brienne discovered Jaime admiring a trident of his own that’d materialized at his feet.

Like hers, the prongs were rippled red and black, the pole golden with rubies down its length. It was a formidable weapon, fairly gleaming with divinity. A gift from the Three-Eyed Raven himself. 

Jaime met her gaze and after she gave him an encouraging nod, he knelt to wield it.

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for a tumblr anon based on the prompt - Brienne as a sea goddess and Jaime as a storm god.


End file.
